


Senate Hearing

by Elfwreck



Category: Role-Playing Games
Genre: Gen, Houses of the Blooded, Self-Harm, gamerfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-11
Updated: 2008-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfwreck/pseuds/Elfwreck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This ties to <a href="http://wickedthought.livejournal.com/tag/houses+of+the+blooded">Houses of the Blooded</a>, an RPG that has been completed & published since this writing; this story has been Jossed. Setting: something like D&D-ish fantasy, much less magic, with a Senate comparable roughly to Ancient Rome's, but without an emperor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senate Hearing

**Author's Note:**

> If you're willing to read it, feedback is MUCH appreciated. Tell me if it works, if it doesn't, if there's stuff you couldn't follow or didn't understand, and so on. SHRED ME, BABY.

She strode into the Senate session moments after they were seated. She'd followed close on the heels of the servant bringing pitchers of mead, and dodged away from the guards at the door. One followed her, but she was very quick—she reached the center of the speaking floor before he caught her. As he grabbed her arms, she called out,

"VRENTAE! I demand my blood-right!"

The guard was still. He held her fast—those bringing a charge of vrentae to the Senate did not always limit themselves to legal targets—but any ven had the right to make the claim. If they could get a hearing, that is. He wondered if this counted as "a hearing;" it certainly seemed a quicker route than the weeks of forms and signatures that most ven used.

He glanced at the girl he was detaining. She was young, not even a teenager. Small. And blind. No eyes. He supposed she wouldn't be filling out forms, then. He looked at her face, tight with rage, and almost shivered; he was suddenly very glad it wasn't his duty to rule on her claim.

The room went quiet, and all eyes turned to the intruder. Her face was steady, waiting… she was looking (if someone without eyes could "look") at the Director.

He looked her over. Young girl, oversized grey formal garb showing affiliation with House Serpent, almost shaking with anger but not making any threatening movements. She looked steadily at him through the silence, and kept facing him when whispers started among the Senators, as they tried to guess or remember her name or her lineage.

The Director cleared his throat, and spoke gently.

"What is this, child? You are too young to call vrentae."

"Last survivor," she spat. "I am the last living of my line. I have the right to avenge my family's death."

"What is your name, girl?"

"I am Silua Lishoveth of Correston; my mother was Teherana, dead three months past."

Silence fell. The guard relaxed his hold on her as she declared her family; she was now a witness before the Senate. The Director motioned for a page, who shuffled through a stack of papers before producing a thick envelope. The Director opened it, and glanced at the contents.

"Teherana and Valthor were killed in a legal duel, young lady. I'm sorry for your loss, but you may not claim vengeance for them."

"My parents were killed legally. My brother was not." Her voice raised again. "_ I call vrentae on Lord Adrente Orthishal!_" She pointed directly at him, off to her left, without turning her eyeless face from the Director. "I call him child-killer, and I demand the right of vengeance!"

"This is quite a serious accusation." He turned to the man in question. "What say you, Lord Orthishal? Did you kill a child as well as your legal targets?"

Orthishal stood to answer. "Lord Director, an infant was killed during the duel. A regrettable accident; his crib tumbled during the battle. But he was less than one year old, not yet a citizen. I committed no murder."

"LIAR!" the girl screeched at him. "He was listed as heir to the house when he was three months old!" She cut herself off, waited until she could calm her voice, and turned back to the Director. "My father did not think me fit to inherit, because I am… damaged. He would not risk me inheriting, so he registered my brother as soon as he could, even before his first natal day. Uncommon, but not unknown. If those are my family's record's you're shuffling"—at this, the Director gave a start—"you'll see it's as I've told you."

The Director looked at a few more papers. Underneath the registry of the duel was indeed a notification of birth of a son, followed by a registration of change of heir apparent. Three extra signatures were affixed, declaring that the child was healthy and expected to live past his first year.

The Director looked at Lord Orthishal. "She seems to be correct, sir."

The Lord blanched, realizing his mistake. Then he looked again at the girl—the only person who had a legal claim against him—and recovered his calm. "It is of little matter. In war, children sometimes die alongside their parents. Regrettable, as I said, but there is nothing I can do at this point."

"Lord Orthishal, I suggest you be less dismissive. This Senate takes child-slaughter very seriously."

"I am not flippant. I respectfully point out that my duel was with the entire bloodline; had I known a son and heir existed, I would have added him to the application. The blind girl-child"—he waved negligently in her direction—"was and is obviously no threat to my interests." He finished speaking, and sat down.

The Director looked at her. "What say you, blind girl?"

"I say I am not entirely blind. And that I have a claim on that man."

He paused for a moment, allowing everyone in the room a chance to absorb what was said. He looked at the girl, her face locked in anger, then at the Wolf Lord, sitting smugly with his arms crossed. He looked down at the sheaf of papers again. When he looked up, he announced, "This matter is open for discussion."

The room erupted.

"What about the baby? Should Orthishal be arrested for murder?"  
"Death of an infant under a year old is always considered to be from natural causes. There was that case where a drunken maid dropped an Elk Lord's son…"  
"But this was a registered heir!"  
"So was that one."  
"That one was an accident. Bystanders aren't supposed to be killed in duels."  
"Ah, it doesn't matter. She can't do anything anyway."  
"She's doing it. Calling for vengeance. It's unlikely she'll succeed, but maybe she's lucky."  
"She can't call vrentae! She hasn't an advocate, hasn’t filed the declaration, hasn't even an adult sponsor to let her speak here! She's not even wearing red!"  
"Last survivor, you heard her. She can call vrentae even if she has no legal voice. And the red's only custom, not a requirement."  
"Can't take her claim seriously—you see her face? She's _blind_. No eyes. She can't kill anyone."  
"She got in here, didn't she?"  
"That just shows our guards are too easy on pathetic-looking young girls."  
"Maybe Orthishal's guards have a similar weakness."  
"I'll admit she has a valid claim, but we can't allow this… she's just too young."  
"Youth shouldn't matter. Should we allow 'accidental' killings during a duel, if there's no adult to avenge them?"  
"She hasn't filled out the application, and she's not even wearing red. She's not following the new laws _or_ the traditional ways."  
"Can't just let every child with a grudge declare vengeance. She's too young to understand the difference between an accident and murder."  
"_Uvanla de shar valin_\--opportunity is never an accident."  
"Doesn't matter; we can't accept the claim. If she's not following the old forms, wearing red and carrying a single blade, _and_ she's not filled out the application—"  
"How can she fill out an application? She's _blind!_"  
"Exactly. How can she expect to avenge her brother's death if she can't even file papers with the Senate?"  
"You don't need to be literate to have a right for vengeance."  
"But you do need more than a claim. How do we know she'll follow protocol? Does she even know the protocol? She's a child."

She'd been listening intently, turning her head slightly towards the softer discussions to hear better. As the mutterings of "not wearing red" grew louder, she took action.

She turned to face the guard, and almost whispered, "I'm sorry if this costs you your job." While he was puzzling what that might mean, she grabbed at his waist with her left hand. He felt a slight tug as she pulled his knife free of its scabbard, then leaped away from him. She raised it high over her head as he lunged for her—he wasn't slow, but she was quicksilver incarnate; all the talking stopped as she slid around him and took two long steps toward the Director, arms still high as if making a presentation, not an attack.

She turned to face the guard, went into a half-crouch, and pointed the blade for the first time. "Take three steps back," she said sharply. The guard froze. He looked where her eyes should be, and there was nothing but blank skin—but her stance was that of a street fighter. He considered rushing her, then considered how quickly she moved, and how sharp he knew the blade was. He heard the sound of crossbows being cocked behind him, and backed up three steps. Heavy steps, so she was certain to hear them. She almost smiled.

Six bows were aimed at her… but so far, she'd committed no crime. Most of the Lords carried blades, and sometimes they were drawn. She was in the center of the speaking area—designed large for exactly this reason: she was more than ten paces from any Senator. And the Director had made no move or call to have her stopped.

She turned away from the guard, and back to the Director. She held the blade out before her, not pointed at him, but held sideways in front of her heart.

"I hear it whispered that I do not follow the forms, that I have not properly brought my case before you. I will correct this. You see me with a single blade—" at this, she spun around, holding the blade high in the air for all to see, before facing the Director again. "And I hear it said that I am not wearing red, and for that, I beg your indulgence for my lapse… I have no way to know which of my clothes are red."

She smiled ruefully, and an almost-laugh went through the room. Then she grew serious again.

"But I would not have it said that I am unaware of the old laws, or unable to meet the obligations of ventrae." And at that, she held the blade sideways over her head with her left hand, and reached up with her right facing inward, and brought them slowly together until the ball of her thumb was touching the tip of the blade. She took a deep breath, and her face went completely calm… and she ripped the blade downward through her thumb and the palm of her hand, deep and quick.

She lowered the blade, and held her right hand high. Blood dripped down her wrist and forearm, splattered the Senate floor in the silence. Then she moved her hand to clench her left shoulder, paused, and dragged her hand diagonally across her chest to leave a bloody red smear on her shirt.

"I come before you with a single blade, wearing red, and," she raised her voice, "I, Silua Lishoveth, call vrentae on Lord Adrente Orthishal for the murder of my brother!"

Orthishal stood up.

"You can't be seriously considering allowing this!"

The Director looked at him. "As you know, the Senate does not 'allow' vrentae. We only confirm it. The right itself is inherent."

He looked around the room.

"Does anyone here deny that this… person… is the sole survivor of her family line, and thus able to address the Senate without a guardian?"

No one answered.

"Does anyone deny that her brother was killed by Lord Adrente Orthishal?"

Orthishal scowled, but did not speak.

"Does anyone claim Lord Adrente Orthishal had declared a legal duel against her brother?"

Again, silence.

"Does anyone deny that she has come forward, wearing red and bearing a single blade, and declared her intent to avenge the death of her brother?"

At this, Orthishal broke.

"This is a _travesty_! You cannot mean to allow this… this crippled outcast to…"

"Lord Orthishal!" the Director interrupted him. "Do you fear this girl's vengeance?"

He snorted. "Of course not."

"Then why object so strongly?"

He mumbled something about precedents, but settled back into his seat. The Director continued.

"Since the forms have been met, and the claim has been validated, the records will indicate that on this day, Silua Lishoveth declared ventrae on Lord Adrente Orthishal. She has one year to complete her task, or her lands, title, and legal rights are forfeit."

She breathed out sharply.

The Director addressed her more softly, "You have a year, child. Make good use of it."

She looked at him. "I will."

Then she walked over to face Orthishal. Her steps were steady and without hesitation. Someone behind him whispered, "How does she even know where he is?" She looked up.

"I can smell his corruption."

He sneered at her. She spoke to him:

"I can't see your expression, but I know what it must be. You mock me and think me powerless. But I have resources you cannot imagine, and I warn you: I give you one day, as required by law, to run or make arrangements for your next of kin. If you are in this building tomorrow at noon, you will not live to eat supper tomorrow night."

He snorted again.

The Director interrupted.

"Lord Orthishal, you are permitted to take leave of the Senate, if you wish."

He looked incredulous. "Am I to believe this child is a threat to me? Abandon my duties here to run from a blind girl?"

"She came into the Senate uninvited, and took a knife from a Senate guard on duty. I would not discount her as harmless."

He looked uneasy. "Perhaps I should… take some time to warn my guards to watch out for a madwoman with delusions of prowess."

The Director nodded. Lord Orthishal gathered his cloak and personal effects, and walked out of the Senate while the blind girl stood near his chair, her right hand still dripping blood. When the door closed behind him, she let out a single sharp breath. Then she walked slowly back to the center of the room, and faced the Director.

"Thank you for your support."

"As I said, neither my support nor permission is necessary."

"Then thank you for your lack of obstruction."

He smiled, though he knew she couldn't see it. "For that, you're welcome. This has been… most interesting."

She turned back toward the guard, and held out the knife in his direction. "I believe this is yours."

He shrugged. "Keep it. I'm probably going to be demoted to stable hand after this."

"I truly am sorry for that."

"You wanna make it up to me? Kill him. If I let a 12-year-old blind girl into the Senate meeting hall, I'm incompetent. If the same girl takes out an Adrente lord, then maybe I'm not so incompetent."

She bared her teeth in an expression that was not a smile. "I'll do my best." And with that, she turned way from him, away from the Senators, and walked to the door. She curled her bleeding hand against her chest, tucked the knife into her belt to open the door, and left.


End file.
